


mon petit, little one

by publunchesownmyass



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, M/M, Making Out, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25018129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/publunchesownmyass/pseuds/publunchesownmyass
Summary: “God, baby, look at you,” Louis whispers, moving so he’s completely hovering over him, so that Harry has to look up to see his face. “You look wrecked, sweetheart, and we’ve barely even started.”or Harry gets fucked in hisMon Petitsweater.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 34
Kudos: 190





	mon petit, little one

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything. 
> 
> read w the knowledge that i have been meaning to edit this for the past six months

“Did you, um, did you watch the video?” 

“Mmm...not yet, darlin’. Should I have?” 

“No, just...was wondering. When did your flight get in?” 

“About two hours ago. Was a right bastard getting through the airport. Thought I was gonna have to pull me hoodie up, hide me face ‘nd that.” 

“But you got here alright?” 

“Yeah, made it in the end.” 

“ ‘S good.” 

“Mmm.” 

For a few seconds, the only sound in the room is the distant hum of the mini fridge, the quiet buzz of the telly and the muffled sounds of the traffic roaring deep down in the street below. It’s comforting, in an odd, detached way, a warm feeling that spreads through Harry’s chest tightly as he revels in the knowledge of something no one else is aware of. Or, at least, no one who matters is aware of. 

Right now feels like one of  _ those  _ nights. The ones they’ll spend together, just the two of them, locked in the hotel room until they have to leave in the morning. Harry supposes it started on their first tour - although it’s tricky to define the time exactly because these nights are not a routine and so perhaps they never really started - when Niall would be down in the lounge playing on his phone or at the bar and Liam would be blowing off steam in the gym and Zayn would be holed up in his own room, doing whatever it was that he did. 

And Louis and Harry would spend the better half of the night lounging over their bed, smoking whatever it was that Louis had with him and drinking whatever the fridge was stocked with, exchanging music and laughing and chatting until even New York, the city that never sleeps, had closed it’s eyes on the world. 

Now they’ve progressed; the weed they’ll smoke - or eat, on the rare occasion - is better, stronger, will get them high faster. They don’t drink as much, either, just on that side of old to know that chugging a night away will result in a level of shittiness that they can’t afford the next morning. Perhaps the only thing that really stays the same is the music; Louis hooking up indie-rock-pop songs like that of the Arctic Monkeys and Catfish and The Bottlemen while Harry lies boneless next to him, occasionally requesting a song of his own but more content to watch his boyfriend choose. 

“When’s your flight out tomorrow?” 

Harry makes a disgruntled noise as he shifts off Louis’ chest to check the time, tired eyes flickering over his phone. 11:24pm. 

“About six hours so, um,” he sets his phone down again, rubbing at his face with one hand, “at five, I think.” 

Louis hums, tipping his head back as he presses the joint to his lips and takes a hit, inhaling deeply. Harry watches him, forever mesmerised, eyes tracing over his jaw and neck and face. Louis’ always looked unfairly hot smoking and it probably doesn’t help that Harry leans toward being a horny high either. He hasn’t realised that one of his hands have come up to thumb over the stubble grazing Louis’ jaw until he chuckles, the thick smoke unfurling out of his mouth like clouds as he does so. 

“You alright there, babe?” 

He’s looking at him now, pupils blown so that the little strip of blue circling them looks even more iridescent than usual, like little segments of diamonds are buried deep inside. 

Harry’s hardly aware that he’s nodding but he must have done because Louis hums, placing the joint carefully down before patting his lap, gesturing for Harry to come closer. He does so, awkwardly clambering on, because he’s never so graceful at the best of times and especially not now. Louis’ hands fly to his hips, probably on instinct and Harry makes a grateful noise, smiling down at his boyfriend from where he’s perched atop him. 

“I like your jumper. Was gonna mention it to you before, actually, but…” the rest of Louis’ sentence trails off as he shrugs, eyes drifting down to Harry’s sweater as his thumbs rub comforting circles onto the soft skin of his waist. 

Harry smiles, pleased, glancing down at the item himself. It had been sent to him by Gucci, part of their 2020 fall collection, and it’s not too often that he genuinely likes the clothing he’s gifted but he knows that this is a jumper he’ll wear around the house for a long time. 

“ ‘m glad,” he murmurs, fingers plucking at the material, voice even slower and deeper than usual. “Hoped you would. It’s, um...gucci, yeah.” 

“Mmm,” Louis leans away from him, picking up the joint again but not smoking it, simply holding it as if he likes the feeling. “What’s it mean? Mon petit?” 

Harry doesn’t reply for a moment, watching his boyfriend distractedly as he plays with the joint, moving it skillfully between his slender fingers. “It’s, uh... little one, I think. Or, like, baby or sweetheart or something.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Slightly raised eyebrows that make Harry flush, heat pooling in his veins, although he isn’t sure why. 

He nods, leaning forward and down so that they’re pressed even closer together, Harry’’s thighs bracketing Louis’ legs. He slips a little and one of Louis’ hands moves so quickly from his hip to his lower back that Harry’s sure it must have been an instinct this time. 

“ ‘S cute, that, innit? Mon petit, little one, baby.” 

Harry nods again, unable to do more than that when his mind is clouded from weed and Louis. He’s content to listen to him talking, responding when he’s required to do so. 

“It’s what you call me,” he says suddenly, cheeks blushing slightly when Louis looks at him, gaze hard and unwavering. “Or would, if we were french,” he tacks on, wondering in the back of his mind where exactly he was going with this sentence. Louis understands though, he always does. 

Nodding, he looks away, not responding for a few seconds. Harry brushes his thumb over his cheekbone, holding his breath for some reason as he does so. 

“You like that, when I call you baby, sweetheart, darlin’?” Louis’ voice is rougher than Harry had expected, accent thickened, although it still holds that endeared soft edge, tinged with fondness, that he knows only appears when Louis’ talking to him. It makes his chest squeeze with something, he doesn’t know what. 

“Yeah,” he nods, voice quiet, holding his gaze before smiling, fingers pushing against Louis’ chest gently. “You know I do.” 

Louis grins at that, hiking Harry closer to him by his bum, smile widening as his boyfriend sighs in satisfaction. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing you admit it though.” 

“You’re a twat,” Harry mumbles into his neck, silky lips moving against the scruff there, pulling away before he can reply. “Can I?” 

“What, you want more of this?” Louis gestures to the joint and he nods. 

The joint gets handed to him and Harry presses it against his lips, feeling his boyfriend’s eyes on him as he inhales, making sure to get some fresh air in too so that he doesn’t cough. He holds it in for a few seconds, knowing that the longer he holds the smoke in the more effect he’ll have from it, before exhaling, the misty vapor obscuring his vision before it evaporates, disintegrating into the room. 

“Yeah?” Louis asks, checking in on him and he nods, handing him back the joint. 

“I, um...I’m gonna keep it, the jumper,” Harry explains. His eyes feel heavy and are probably rimmed red, although there’s a thrumming in his veins as if each one has a heartbeat of it’s own. 

“You should,” Louis tells him after he’s exhaled, placing the used joint on the bedside table and his hand that was holding it moves back on Harry’s waist, rubbing his sides comfortingly. Harry preens under the attention, greedily thriving from the way Louis’ looking at him, blue eyes dark and strong in their gaze. “You look pretty wiv’ it. Proper cute.” 

Harry shifts slightly on his lap, grinding down a bit so that Louis will look at him like  _ that _ , the corner of his mouth tilting up in a smirk. 

“You’re always such a fuckin’ horny high, god. I forget.” 

Laughter tumbles out of Harry’s mouth, loud and unhidden, as he rolls his eyes a bit. “Don’t try and act like me wanting your cock is a hardship you have to endure, Louis. Think you lost that battle a long time ago.” 

“Eh,” Louis chuckles, hands bracing his hips tightly before flipping them over so quickly that Harry couldn’t have stopped him if he wanted to. “ ‘S a bit of a grievance sometimes.” 

“Oh, really?” He can’t help but laugh, brushing one hand through Louis’ hair, the soft strands catching between his rings. Neither of them can stop smiling. 

“Yeah,” Louis sighs, tilting his head to the side. “Pretty lad always wanting me cock,  _ begging  _ me to fuck him at all hours of the day, even in publ-” 

Harry’s laughing long before the end of the sentence but he claps a hand over his boyfriend’s mouth before he finishes, even though there’s nobody else in the room. Louis’ eyes are crinkled above the hand, obviously smiling behind it and probably laughing too, if their chests - both rising and falling, chuckles spilling out from their mouths - are anything to go by. 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Harry warns him, dimples digging into his cheeks. Once he’s sure Louis won’t, he lifts his hand away, smiling when he sees his boyfriend’s own smile. It’s silent for a few seconds and he sighs, pleased, tugging through Louis’ hair. 

“-even in public and if we’re visiting his family, he’ll seduce me and trick me into having sex with him in his childhood bed-” Louis doesn’t end up getting the rest of the sentence out because Harry slaps at him lightly, a loud, unabashed laugh escaping him until they’ve both dissolved in amusement. 

“You’re- such a fucking  _ cock- _ ” Harry’s gasping inbetween his laughter, struggling to hit at Louis’ chest from where he has both of his wrists held tightly in one hand. It’s only when Louis lowers his lips onto his, licking, surprisingly gently compared to the atmosphere, across the seam of them until he opens up, that Harry stops in his attempts, spilling little chuckles into the kiss as he does so. 

They’re both still smiling, teeth clicking quietly against each other as Louis sucks on his tongue, hands skating all over Harry’s hips and arse and waist. It’s so  _ warm _ , here in his boyfriend’s arms and he shudders a bit as Louis squeezes his bum, making him cup his jaw down to kiss him deeper. 

“Baby,” Louis murmurs tenderly, smile fading as he bites down on Harry’s bottom lip. Harry whines quietly, shifting so that his legs can wrap around his waist, fervently pulling him in closer, wanting him to dig deeper into the cave of his own mouth. Louis pulls away from his mouth, instead pressing wet open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. 

“Jesus, Louis,” Harry lets his head flop back onto the hotel pillows, creamy and soft - only the best for millionaire international celebrities. Louis grinds down onto him and although it’s only about four layers of clothing separating their crotches it feels like it might as well be an ocean. 

Harry can feel himself thickening up in his trousers, he was already half-hard from the weed, and he knows he won’t need much to come tonight. But he’s determined to get fucked anyway. 

Louis’ stopped kissing along his jaw and Harry feels his lips travel down, skating teasingly over the joint between his jaw and his neck before settling below his ear, his favourite spot, kissing it gently. 

“Louis, Lou, c’mon.” Harry knows he’s whining now but he doesn’t care; Louis’ teasing him and he just- he  _ can’t  _ tonight, he’s already gotten so riled up in such a short space of time. 

“Alright, okay, honey, I know, I got you, darlin’.” 

His voice, spoken right against Harry’s skin, makes him shiver, nerves sparking so that he’s hyper-aware, the inner material of his clothes burning him where they touch his skin. He feels Louis’ lips tighten on his neck, right on that same damn spot that makes him so pliant and hard at the same time, before he’s sucking a bruise onto the skin there. 

Harry moans quietly, bucking his hips up and tightening his legs around his boyfriend’s hips at the same time, frantic to gain any sort of friction. He almost cries out in relief when Louis, instead of pushing his hips down and denying him, grinds down again, meeting him halfway. 

Overwrought with the encompassing feeling of  _ Louis _ everywhere, Harry rubs against him, unable to keep from moaning as his boyfriend sucks more lovebites into his neck, against his jugular, the tender skin to the right of his Adam’s apple, right down to the sensitive line above his collar bones.

He’s so riled up right now that he’s prepared to come in his pants like a bloody teenager if he has to. But clearly Louis has other plans because as soon as he’s finished marking Harry up, he pulls away, admiring his work before glancing up at his face.

He knows what Louis sees, what he must look like right now; pupils blown, the green grainy from the late hour, lips swollen and red, cheeks flushed, hair a mess. 

“God, baby, look at you,” Louis whispers, moving so he’s completely hovering over him, so that Harry has to look up to see his face. “You look wrecked, sweetheart, and we’ve barely even started.” 

Harry breathes out shakily, trying to gain back some sort of self-control. His cock is aching, straining against his trousers, and he wants nothing more than to be bent over and fucked until he’s shivering from over-sensitivity. 

Louis makes a soft noise, bringing his attention back to him, as he trails one hand over Harry’s face, caressing his cheekbones tenderly before rubbing one thumb over the flesh of his lips, gently prying them open with the tip. 

Harry opens up willingly, always eager to please, always happy to accept whatever Louis is prepared to give him. Eyes darkened with veiled fascination, his boyfriend watches as he sucks his thumb into his mouth, greedily lapping his tongue over it, swirling it all the way around to get it completely covered. 

“That’s it, baby, get it nice and wet,” Louis encourages him, always ready to shower his boy with praise. 

Harry closes his eyes, sucking his thumb down deeper and even going so far as to bob his head a bit, swallowing back a smile when he hears his boyfriend let out a quiet groan. 

“God, darlin’, you’re doing so well, look at you, babe.” 

He pulls his thumb out of his mouth a few seconds later, making Harry’s eyes fly open, needing to be anchored by Louis’ gaze if not his touch. Louis smiles at him, leaning down and dropping him a kiss that leaves him sighing into his mouth. Harry clutches at him as he sucks on his tongue. 

“Wanna, Lou, wanna g’naked, clothes off, come on,” he’s beyond whining now; trespassed into a state of complete desperation, cock pressing fully hard against his underwear, frustrated that his boyfriend doesn’t seem nearly as close to this sexual precipice he’s so clearly teetering on. 

Louis laughs into his mouth, “See, you really do sound like that sex addict now, babe.” 

Huffing, Harry pulls away, hands scrambling down to undo his fly as clearly Louis isn’t moving fast enough. He can feel his boyfriend’s eyes on him as he struggles out of the trousers, too riled up to be able to whip them off cleanly. 

“Come on, Lou, hurry up,” he prompts, knowing without looking that Louis’ still fully dressed. 

“Just admiring the view, darlin’,” Louis’ smirks and Harry turns back around, settling down against the sheets and smiling slightly when his boyfriend sits back on his knees, moving to undo his jeans. 

Harry lets one hand trail down to rest between his thighs, nails scratching lightly at the skin there. It always gets him so hard to be felt up a bit before he’s fucked and, as Louis’ busy, he decides to take matters into his own hands. 

Louis sheds his hoodie, revealing nothing but tanned and tattooed skin, muscles rippling underneath. Harry bites his lip a bit at the sight, moving to palm himself over his underwear, the heel of his hand pressing against his cock to create a delicious friction. 

Louis’ taking his sweet time, it seems, getting up and rifling through their luggage, presumably looking for lube and condoms. Harry sighs, tilting his head to stare at the ceiling as he moves his hand from his cock, letting it travel further between his thighs. 

“If you don’t hurry up, maybe I’ll go and find someone else who’s more eager to fuck me,” he calls out after a few more sexually-frustrated minutes have slid by. 

Louis reappears in the doorway of the bathroom and Harry looks over at him, smiling when he sees the required objects in his hands. “And who would that be, darling?” he smirks, making his way over to where he’s lying on the bed. 

“Well, if I can’t find someone, I would just have to take care of me myself,” Harry smiles smugly back at him, shifting as the bed dips slightly when Louis joins him. 

“What, so you’d be wanking in one shower while I’m jerking off in the other?” Louis shoots him a wry look as he hovers over him once more, the lube and condoms laying next to Harry’s head. 

Harry snorts out a laugh, making his boyfriend smile as he kisses his lips lightly, sweetly, just once, before moving his lips back down his neck and further onto his chest. 

“You look good with my marks on you,” he hums, mouth skating over his bird tattoos before travelling lower. 

‘Well, I better do, I’ve been wearing them for the best part of-  _ oh,  _ fuck,” Harry cuts himself off with a moan as Louis’ mouth tightens around his left nipple, skilled tongue swirling over the pebbled bud. 

He hums again in the back of his throat, hand drifting down to slide between Harry’s thighs, knocking his own hand gently out the way. Harry swears quietly, biting down on his lip as he arches into Louis’ touch, shuddering at the way his hand is moving, teasingly palming over his cock before dipping lower. 

“Lou, Louis, yeah, fuck, c’mon,” Harry’s babbling, he knows he is, but he can’t  _ help  _ it. Sometimes he thinks it’s scary how well Louis knows his body, like Harry’s a violin and he’s the violinist, but, then again, after being with him for more or less ten years, it’s no surprise that he can do things with his fingers and tongue and cock that Harry’s sure must be illegal from how good they feel. 

Louis moves away from his nipple, shifting so that he’s looking at Harry as his hand continues to move between his legs. 

“These are pretty,” he murmurs lightly and Harry doesn’t have to ask to know what he’s talking about. 

“Yeah, got them, um,” he’s blushing already, for  _ some _ reason, tilting his head to the side so that the silky fabric of the pillow brushes against his cheek, “got them for you.” 

“Oh?” Louis’ smiling, he can hear it in his voice. “Did you buy them for me, sweetheart? Or did you wear them for me?” 

Cheeks darkening, Harry looks up at him, swallowing when he sees how blown his boyfriend’s pupils are. “Wore them for you.” His voice is barely a whisper, so quiet because this -  _ these moments _ \- are only for Louis, will only ever be for Louis. 

And it’s-it’s stupid, it really is, because Louis’ seen him in women’s underwear  _ thousands  _ of times before. 

Christ, Harry’s ridden his face while wearing a thong and been fucked countless times in various dresses but  _ sometimes _ , there’ll be moments like this one where Harry’s taken right back to the first time, right back to when he was eighteen and sobbing from humiliation against a hotel room’s locked bathroom door wearing nothing but panties while Louis’ begged him to come out from the other side, pleading with him, after he walked in on Harry trying them on. 

“You look beautiful,” Louis says now, nudging his face back up from the pillow so that he can kiss him gently before pulling away. “You know that.” 

Harry breathes out shakily, fidgeting slightly in his arms. “Yeah, I-I know.” 

His boyfriend nods, eyes tracing softly over his face, before kissing him again. Hands curling into his hair, Harry deepens it, sliding his tongue inside hotly. He spreads his legs quickly, wrapping them around Louis’ waist once more. 

“Hang on, need the lube,” Louis breaks away from him, reaching over and grabbing the bottle. 

Harry nods even though he isn’t looking at him and plays with the hem of his jumper as he watches him uncap the bottle. 

“You look sweet in that,” Louis tells him, drizzling the lube over his fingers and rubbing them together to warm it up. 

Harry smiles dopily at him, eyes warm as he moves back inbetween his legs.    
  


“You’re just saying that because you love me.” 

Louis’ laugh is loud and bright, shaking his head at him as he slips one hand under Harry’s thigh, bringing it up around his waist before doing the same with the other. Harry locks his ankles together behind his back, tightening them. 

“Well, you’re right about that, I suppose.” Louis runs one hand through his hair before trailing his other one between Harry’s legs again, gently moving the underwear out the way so that he can access his hole easier. “Move your hips up a bit, yep, that’s it darlin’.” 

The fingertip against his hole is sudden and Harry sucks in a breath, letting it out again shakily as he feels Louis trace around his rim, letting the muscle flutter around the tip of his finger, before moving it away teasingly. 

“God, Lou, c’mon,” Harry tries to fuck himself down onto his finger, lifting his hips up and chasing it desperately but to no avail. His cock is lying hard against his stomach, swollen, an angry red and Harry tries to get one hand around it but Louis tuts slightly, pushing his hand away before slipping his finger into him at last. 

“Oh, fuck, yeah, Louis,” he’s moaning unabashedly, fucking himself down on Louis’ one finger, “c’mon, come on, add another, please, Louis, another, you can, c’mon.” 

“Love it when you beg, baby,” smiles Louis, making him huff slightly, then letting him get what he wants - as he always does - circling another lube-slick finger tantalisingly around his rim before sliding it in against the first. 

Harry moans louder at that, voice deep as he clenches around his fingers. Louis’ fingers always feel so good inside him, thick and clever and always so goddamn skilled, knowing exactly what to do to make him come. 

Louis kisses him suddenly - he’s half sure it’s just to get him to be more quiet - and he opens up immediately, cupping his jaw as their tongues slide hotly against each other. 

He backs Harry down against the pillows, curling his fingers inside him and stroking over his prostate, making him moan right into his mouth, his back arching up against him. 

“Louis, Louis, God, yes, there, c’mon, yeah, yeah.” Louis’ fingers are driving him almost over the edge and Harry freezes up as he adds a third with no warning, sliding it right against the other two. 

It feels as though the pressure on his prostate doubles and Harry whimpers, pulling away to bury his head in Louis’ neck, breathing heavily against it as his fingers work over the bundle of nerves repeatedly, the three of them folding at the knuckles to rub over it until Harry thinks like he might come already. 

“Lou, please, I’m ready, c’mon, just fuck me,” he pulls away, looking at his boyfriend. 

“You sure? I quite like fingering you, babe,” Louis smiles at him and Harry rolls his eyes, cheeks still flushed and chest still rising and falling heavily. 

“I’m sure, come on,” Harry smirks as much as he can with three fingers up his arse and snakes one hand down to Louis’ boxers, pressing his hand against the sizeable bulge at his crotch. “Stick your dick up my bum, please.” 

“Fuckin’ hell,” Louis groans quietly, an amused lilt to his tone and Harry laughs, pleased with himself. 

Louis removes his fingers carefully, wiping them on Harry’s thigh and ignoring the disgusted look he gives him, before kissing his forehead. 

“Pass me the lube, will you, babe,” he asks, patting his bum and Harry reaches onto the other pillow to retrieve it, grabbing the condom while he’s at it. 

He rips open the condom packet himself, taking it out and pinching the tip between his fingers. “Come here, gonna put it on you,” he tells Louis, who nods, running one hand through his hair before shuffling over to him. 

“You sure you’re open enough?” he checks, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone. 

Harry rolls his eyes, gently gripping Louis’ cock by the base before rolling the condom over it, giving him a few quick tugs to hear him stifle a groan. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he looks up at him, an amused expression on his face. “You worry too much.” 

“Just don’t wanna hurt you, love,” Louis kisses his forehead again and Harry smiles in spite of himself, wriggling underneath him. 

“Right, come on, babe, sex me up,” Harry manouvers himself so that he’s in a good position, laughing when Louis groans - unfortunately this time at Harry instead of because of him. 

“ ‘ _ Sex me up’, _ ” Louis repeats, shaking his head and huffing out a laugh, “fuckin’...” 

He doesn’t finish the sentence and Harry laughs again, slinging one leg over Louis’ shoulder so he punches out a soft ‘ooft.’ His hand goes immediately to Harry’s thigh, though, rubbing the soft skin there absent-mindedly. 

“Move your other leg to my waist sweetheart, yeah, that’s it,” Louis kisses his lips once before positioning himself right against his hole. “You alright?” 

Harry nods, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck and his boyfriend smiles, dropping another kiss to his lips before exhaling slightly, gripping his cock by the base and guiding it right against his hole, the stretched muscle fluttering again, trying to pull him in. 

Harry tilts his hips up a bit when he first slides in, something he’s learnt makes the drag easier and the feeling of something entering him easier. His mouth drops open as Louis keeps pressing in, his girth stretching him wider, his rim burning slightly as it accommodates to his size. 

“Fuck, Louis,  _ yes, _ ” Harry moans, unable to really move at the overwhelming feeling of him sliding right into his body, right into  _ him _ , splitting him open on his cock and then putting him back together again. 

“God, baby, you feel so good, christ,” Louis swears, ducking his head down to kiss him messily. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry agrees, nodding mindlessly as he finally bottoms out. He stays there for a moment, their mouths still joined, before pulling out halfway and pushing swiftly back in, making Harry’s toes curl behind his back. 

“ _ Jesus, _ ” Louis pants into his mouth, “so warm, tight, yeah…” 

He trails off, gripping his hips as he builds up a pace, moving in and out of him with such force that Harry’s glad he’s holding onto him so tight or he feels like he might just break away. 

“Lou, Louis, fuck, you do this to me, fuck me so well, shit-” Harry kisses him harder, unable to formulate proper words, body charging with whatever the hell it is that shoots through his veins when Louis slams against his prostate just like  _ that. _

“I know, I know,” he shushes him gently, one hand leaving his hips to slide beneath his jumper. When Louis next speaks his voice is so rough and  _ northern  _ (he may or may not have a thing for Louis’ accent) that it has Harry’s cock twitching on his stomach. “Look so pretty too, take my cock so well, in your little jumper baby.” 

Harry just nods, breathless, fucking himself down on his cock, meeting Louis’ thrusts halfway until he can’t tell if the pounding he can hear is the blood roaring in his ears, the headboard slamming against the wall or the harsh slap of skin on skin. 

“Want you to, fuck,” Louis grunts slightly, shifting both of Harry’s legs over his shoulders so that he can fuck him faster, deeper. “Want you to ride me one time, yeah? Just wearing your jumper or fuck,  _ fuck _ , that multi-coloured cardigan thing?” 

Harry can’t help but huff out a laugh at that, although it quickly gets punched out of him as Louis hits his prostate again. He’d forgotten about that, actually, but he can’t remember why, since the days after he wore it out had been spent in a pretty permanent sex haze which had already included him riding Louis while just wearing the cardigan. 

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Wanna do that, christ,” he’s close and Louis must be able to tell because he redoubles his efforts, sliding out and fucking back into him deeper with sharp, hard thrusts that have Harry panting underneath him. 

He gets a hand around his own cock, feeling precome already wetting the tip, before jerking himself off at a brutal pace, matching Louis’ thrusts. 

“Feel so full, shit,” Harry gasps out, quickly hiking his jumper up his chest so it doesn’t get any damage on it. Louis bundles him up in his arms, moving him up the bed and Harry bites down on his lip to contain a moan because  _ jesus _ , it was so hot the way he just manhandled him like that. 

His blood’s pulsing through his veins, heat coiling in his abdomen and Harry can tell he’s close. Quickening his pace, he tugs his cock faster, twisting his wrist and thumbing over the head, making more precome blurt out the tip. He’s so  _ close _ , teetering right on the edge of oblivion, vision blurring at the edges.

“Louis, Louis, gonna come,” he manages to whimper out, pressing himself closer to him, wanting to feel every part of their body touching. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it, come on, baby, come,” Louis ducks his head down, kissing along his jaw again. His eyes are ablaze, the blue a ring of fire, and that’s all it takes for Harry to spill over his hand and onto his stomach, relief and something else that feels impossibly good coursing through him in waves as he comes. 

Louis groans, fucking into him quickly, chasing his own orgasm until Harry’s shivering from over sensitivity. He spreads his legs wider, clinging onto his boyfriend and clenching around him before he feels Louis’ cock pulse slightly inside him before he comes, spilling into the condom. 

“Fuck, darling,” is all he says, kissing Harry with surprising tenderness as their chests rise and fall, breathing loudly as they both come down from their highs. They stay like that for a few more minutes, until their breathing is more or less back to normal. 

“Good?” Harry asks him, brushing a few strands of hair off his forehead for him. 

Louis snorts, shaking his head in disbelief as he shifts. “Babe, I’m completely fucked out,  _ you’re  _ completely fucked out, I’m literally still inside you and you’re asking if it was good?” 

He smiles, laughing a bit when Louis rolls his eyes before pushing himself off him and pulling out. Shivering a bit at the loss, Harry watches as he wanders to the bin, tying the used condom and chucking it in there before walking back over to him. 

“Coming for a shower, love?” he asks, grabbing Harry’s hand anyway. 

“Yep, wait, let me just,” he strips off the jumper, sighing in relief as he examines it and finds no come stains before glancing up at Louis with a smile. “You really like these jumpers then?” 

Louis frowns, looking over his shoulder from where he’s fiddling about with the shower knob. “I dunno, what jumpers, sweetheart?” 

Harry rolls his eyes a bit, climbing up from the bed and joining him in the bathroom, clambering carefully into the shower. The water’s hot as it sprays out from the showerhead and he ducks under it quickly, accepting the bodywash Louis hands him gladly. 

“You know, the coloured cardigan and now the mon petit one. You like them.” 

“Well, yeah, I guess. On you, yeah.” Louis shrugs, frowning over at him slightly before moving to bracket him against the wall, the heat curling into steam around them. 

Harry just hums, cupping his jaw, his thumb running over the stubble there. 

“Ah, babe, you know what I did find, actually? Meant to tell you this earlier but, well, we were high and then we were fucking, so I didn’t get the chance.” 

“Romantic,” snorts Harry, tracing one finger absent-mindedly down Louis’ neck like the water drops. 

“Yeah, innit,” he laughs, running one hand through Harry’s hair before continuing. “Well, anyway, it’s this dress, by Louis Vuitton, I think. Bloody expensive anyway, so right up your street.” 

He laughs loudly at that, cheeks dimpling as Louis presses a kiss to his temple. 

“And what about it?” 

“Bought it for ya. You’d look really gorgeous in it, too. With your long legs and that.” 

“ ‘And that’?” he repeats, amused. 

Louis smiles at him, kissing his lips this time, one of his hands moving down to his arse. “ ‘And that’ as in everything else about you that is beautiful.” 

Rolling his eyes, but pleased nonetheless, Harry kisses him back, trying to hide a smile behind it. 

“Is it one of those ones that I can ride you in?” 

“Naturally.” 

**Author's Note:**

> ayo that’s it thankyou for reading every comment + kudo means so much


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